


Silver Moon Sparkling

by Bananasplit86



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confusion, Heavy Angst, Internal Conflict, M/M, Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananasplit86/pseuds/Bananasplit86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if you never get a soulmate mark? What if you do, but you never meet them? What if you meet them and they're just not what you expected? Or they're your rival?</p><p>These are the questions that both Yann and Roman face when their soulmate marks appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a one shot but as I started writing this it became clear that it would be too complicated and too long to even consider it as that, so voila, this happened.
> 
> I hope that you'll enjoy this and take some details with a pinch of salt - like Granit being a few years older than he actually is and the details of that first season for them both in Switzerland. I've had to fiddle with the details of Roman's move to Grasshopper Club to fit in with this and, frankly, to make it work ;)
> 
> For details: the name of your soulmate is a silver outline until you meet them. Once you've met them the name fills in and turns grey. Once you've shared your first kiss it turns black. (I like meddling with things and changing them).
> 
> Enjoy. (As always the title sucks and might change at some point - do not be alarmed!)

The sun is warm on his back as he sits on the edge of the lake, skimming stones into the water. He feels like he's been waiting all his life, and he has, and he's not sure he can take it anymore. He just wants to know, needs to know. He wants to know who he's supposed to fall in love with, who he's supposed to be with. If anyone at all.

It's frustrating to him being 21 and not knowing. Both his parents were marked at 16, when they were still at school, his best friend was marked 2 years ago, everyone he knew had the name. Everyone he knew has the silver outline of their elbow, some of them has even gone grey and some black. He, meanwhile, has nothing, not even a trace or a faint outline of who. 

He skims one last stone across the water and sighs. He just wants to know. He wants the feeling of knowing there's someone out there for him, even if he's years off meeting them, he just wants to know that there's someone meant for him, someone who’s waiting to meet him. 

His apartment is cold when he returns, devoid of anything homely or comforting, he just can't bring himself to do that. He doesn't feel like he can when he feels so empty, so lonely. He sits and feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

_Granit: where've you been? fancy a beer?_

He taps out a _yes, come over, bring beer_ and chucks his phone to the table, aware that he'd ignored Granit’s first question but he knows that his friend will either forget or question him when he arrives. Hopefully the former, but probably the latter. 

“So, you gonna tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?” Granit smiles as he pushes past him and swings the 6-pack onto the coffee table. 

“Just Zürichsee.” Yann shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Ah. Skimming stones I guess.” 

Yann knows that Granit knows exactly what he was doing whilst skimming stones, so he nods and pops a bottle open quickly. The beer is mildly cool, on the edge of being warm but he drinks it anyway, hoping that the delay throws Granit off. It doesn't. 

“Pondering why it hasn't happened yet?”

“I hate that you know me so well.” He sighs and sinks back. “Yes.”

“It will.”

“Thanks, but I don't hold hope now. Maybe I don't have one.”

It's Granit’s turn to sigh. “We have this same conversation over and over again. They're out there, somewhere. You're 21 not 71! There's still years yet to find them.”

“Easy for you to say when yours is black.”

Yann watches as Granit downs his beer and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Look, I just got lucky I guess. Cassie just happened to be the one and yes, we're very happy. But it takes longer for some people. My brother is 25 and doesn't have a name yet, so it's not just you. Maybe it's just not decided who it is yet. Perhaps you should get out there and have some fun instead of moping around and hoping you'll wake up some day with a name on your arm.”

Yann knows he's right. Granit is always right and it pains him. “Fine. How about we go out tonight and you be my wingman whilst I try to have some “fun”?”

“I fucking hate that term, but I’m in.” Granit laughs. 

*

Roman’s lungs are burning as he runs. The wind is cooling against his hot skin and whips the sweat away from his brow. He hates the idea of soulmates yet he wants one, he wants the feeling of being loved unconditionally, being loved by someone, anyone who isn't his family. 

He loves his parents and his brother, but sometimes it just isn't enough. He wants to curl up in someone's arms and cuddle and he wants to hold someone as they make love, tell someone he loves them to the end of the earth and back. He just wants _it_.

He stops abruptly and rests his hands on his knees. He knows he's being ridiculous. He's 19. He's young, he's got plenty of time. But he just wants to be happy with someone. 

He heads back home and showers, runs his fingers over the spot on his elbow where it’s supposed to appears and sighs. He asks himself if it will hurt, if he’ll feel the sting as the name scrawls across his skin. If it will heal as his tattoos did and he wonders what it will look like when it's there. Will it be cursive or neat print? Will it be big or small? So many questions and no answers so far. 

It's only a few moments of thought before he's brought out of his reverie by a phone call from his agent telling him he’s being loaned to Grasshopper Club and that his dream of playing first team football is finally being realised. He’s finally getting his chance to play in the Swiss Super League.

*

Yann's arm is stinging when he wakes up. Somewhat groggily, he rubs the spot absent mindedly and sits up slowly. In the dark of the room he can't make out why his arm is stinging and he figures that he was probably bitten by something when he was hiking at the lake the day before. Either that, or his night with Granit was a lot wilder than he remembers. 

It's only when he's showered and brushed his teeth that he realises the sting is on the inside of his elbow. He wonders just for a second if it could've happened, if it's the name he's always wanted to see, so he breathes long and slow and then looks.

 _Roman_.

It's beautiful. It's smooth and flowing, loopy yet precise and his chest swells. It's only the outline in pale silver but it makes his mouth go dry and his heart hammer behind his ribs so hard that he can hear it. He has to sit down before he falls down from the overwhelming rush of emotions that are running through his body.

What if Roman doesn't like him at him first and pushes him away? What if they never actually meet, ever, and his name is an outline on his arm for the rest of his life? What if he doesn't like him and can't bear the thought of even being near him? What if-

No. He stops and inhales slowly. This is all he's ever wanted and he's not going to think of what could go wrong. He's going to embrace it, embrace the challenge of finding _him_ and meeting him and then seeing where it takes them. He's not entirely sure where to start, but at least he has a name now, and it's something. 

He runs a careful finger over the script and wonders if Roman has his name in simple print on his elbow, if Roman had felt the sting at the same time as he did. 

It's everything to him. 

*

He's excited. He's meeting the club to finalise his loan and he can barely sit still with the nervous energy running through his body. His leg jangles up and down quickly and his agent shoots him a warning look to tell him to calm down. His eyes widen and he apologises quickly, before dropping his hands to his knees in a bid to stop himself moving. 

Despite his nerves, the whole process goes smoothly and he signs on the dotted line with a smile to make it official. It's only once he's dropped the pen that he relaxes; his body stilling and his mind freeing from the anxiety of the very remote possibility that they club would back out. 

As he moves towards the door after shaking the chairmanship hand and promising to call to see him before his first training session he feels a sting on his arm. It feels exactly like the sting of a tattoo needle only shorter and less prolonged. He winces and rubs at the spot on his arm through his shirt but resists the urge to look. 

“Everything ok Roman?” His agent asks concerned.

“It’m fine thanks. I just need to use the bathroom before we leave, if that's ok.”

His agent nods and gestures that he'll be in the car as Roman stalks towards the restroom quickly, locking it after him. His knees almost give way as he slides the sleeve up his arm. He's not sure what he's expecting to see but it's not that. It's not the small and neat print gleaming at him from the skin of his arm. He's always wondered what his soulmate’s writing would look like, but he's always assumed that it'd be like his own, a kindred spirit of sorts; messy and loopy, all flowing letters and freedom. He hadn't expected the preciseness of it. 

But it's the contrast of the silver against his tan and the growing collection of tattoos on his arm that really strikes him. It's what it looks like on his arm, and what it feels like. It looks like it belongs, that it should always be there and he wonders whether it will look as perfect when it turns grey when they meet, if they meet. And then his mind wanders to what it would look like black. Would it be visible once they've kissed and their names turn to the bold lettering that his parents have? Would he be able to see it amongst his sleeve of designs? 

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he stares at the name, feels like a piece of him has been found, like he's one step closer to what he's always wanted. Love. 

He snaps out of it and realises he's getting ahead of himself. What if _Yann_ and he never cross paths and his name is silver forever?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsure on this one, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)

Yann tries to hide it, he really does, but he can't. He's so excited and even if he could hide it Granit would see through him immediately. Granit knows him far too well and Granit also knows exactly how much alcohol he put into his body last night, so he's fairly sure that Granit will expect him to be nursing the world's worst hangover and still be slightly down.

He rolls up his sleeves and runs his forefinger over the name again and lets it roll off his tongue. It sounds so right as he wraps his lips around it, sounds so perfect spilling from his mouth and he wonders what it would sound like saying it to _him_ when they met. He wonders whether he’ll look like a Roman and whether he’ll be attracted to him. What happens if he's not? 

He stops himself from getting in too deep on that road again and allows himself one final glance at the shimmering silver before he rolls the sleeve down and turns for the door.

“Did you pull on the way home or something?” Granit asks him as soon as he opens the door to the locker room.

Yann looks at him and smiles. “No, why?”

“Well, you're smiling. Wait, no. You're fucking beaming. It's that smile you get when something ridiculously good has happened to you.”

“It happened.” Yann says quietly as he sits down. He feels his heart hammering in his chest as he tries to contain his happiness. He feels it bubbling through his body, his blood rushing around his ears and reverberating in his cheeks, turning them red and hot. 

“It? As in _it_ it?”

Yann nods slowly and pushes the sleeve up to show Granit the pale mark stretched across his inner elbow. He sees the gleam in his friend's eyes as he spots the name on his arm and smiles wider than he was before. 

“Roman? That's a nice name, and I'm so happy for you Yann. This is so exciting and maybe now you can stop moping around and skimming stones.” 

“You know that won't happen, I'll mope until I meet him and I'll skim stones forever.”

“You'll never change Yann.”

Yann grins at him and slides the sleeve back down his arm but not before one final brush of his finger along it.

*

Roman finds himself unable to concentrate during the drive over to his new club, his mind running at a million miles an hour and his body thrumming with excitement. Yet, somewhere in amongst all the good feelings there's a doubt and a worry. A tiny feeling of apprehension.

The name, whilst amazing to have on his arm, means practically nothing. It's just a name. He knows no one by that name, not even on an acquaintance basis or as a distant friend of a friend of a friend. So whilst it feels good to him to be marked and have the knowledge that somewhere out there is the person meant for him, the person who he's meant to love and cherish, it doesn't mean everything. He doesn't want it to. He’s happy he's got that step closer to the love he sometimes aches to have but he doesn't want it to define him and be who he is. He doesn't want the name on his arm to be the thing that guides him and makes his decisions.

It will happen when it happens. They'll meet when they're supposed to meet. And they'll fall in love when they're supposed to. He's not going to chase it and search for this Yann. Sure, he's out there, waiting for him but Roman can't let that stop him from living and having fun, enjoying his time, his career and his life.

He stops the car and mulls it over for a few moments. He's happy, of course he is, but he's young and has plenty of time to find Yann and get to know him and fall in love. Despite the whole soulmate thing, he wants it to happen as naturally as possible. Yann will find him when it's right. 

As he steps out of the car he’s acutely aware of how things have changed for him in the space of 24 hours and it jolts him a little. Is it a simple coincidence or is it linked somehow? But he wonders how it could be linked, how could him moving to the big leagues so to speak and the appearance of the name on his arm be linked? 

It’s a question that stays hovering around the front of his mind as he steps inside his new training base and stops to take it all in. 

*

The big question for Yann is whether to tell his parents or not. They’ve been supportive in his desperation and longing for a name to appear but he knows that they’ll probably go slightly overboard if he tells them. His mother will probably start searching for every person in Switzerland called Roman and his father will more than likely be the one vetting each one she finds for their suitability as Yann’s soulmate. 

He thinks it over for a while and decides that it’s probably best if he keeps it from them for a while whilst he wraps his own head around the fact that _he’s_ somewhere out there.

He feels a little guilty about keeping them in the dark over such a huge part of his life, their only son’s life, but it’s the only decision he can reach. It’s enough with him being like a kid in a sweetshop without them joining in and making his life into one giant search party.

He watches as Granit runs ahead of him and finds his mind wandering to Roman and what he’d be like, but the his biggest thought is whether Roman is even Swiss or in Switzerland. What if he’s not? What if he’s German or Spanish or from somewhere beyond the confines of Europe? When on earth is he supposed to meet him then? 

It’s a question that nags at him as he follows his teammates around the track, lungs burning and calves cramping as he runs. It’s a question that keeps him quiet as his teammates are loud around him in the locker room and one that keeps his hiss to a sharp intake of breath as he kneels down into the ice bath. 

He feels Granit looking at him so he smiles widely and tries to tune himself back into the sounds around him, the hisses of cold and pain and the gentle singing from the shower room. As he listens to Valentin joking around with the others he feels himself being pulled back into the now, into where he’s supposed to be and not where he has been for the majority of the morning. It feels better as he lets himself be dragged into a childish game of never have I ever to pass the time in the ice bath, he feels better. Almost normal, as he was before the name appeared on his elbow. Yet happier.

*

It's hard and he's hurting after his first day. The fitness tests were as rigorous as always and the training was his hardest yet. Roman sinks into the sofa and sighs. He knew it was going to be hard, knew that it was a step up from where he was before but he'd had no idea just how hard. His body is in pieces and every muscle possible feels as if it is stuck in a vice and he wants to scream. He's not sure how he's supposed to complete the sessions he has to the following day but he knows he will do no matter how he's feeling in the morning. 

It's his chance, he knows that, he just wonders how he’ll do it.

It's only later that he thinks he should probably mention the name on his arm to someone. Maybe his brother or his parents or a friend. But then he knows that they understand how he's felt about the whole soulmate thing and he knows they'll understand if he doesn't tell them. Sure, it's nice knowing that there is someone somewhere who's supposed to be ‘the one’ for him, it's a nice fall back for him and gives him a kind of safety net. But it's not the most important thing in his life and he wonders how Yann feels about it all. Does he think the same? Is it just something that's part of life for everybody and he's aloof about it, or is it the big thing and he's searching for him, wanting it to happen, needing it to happen.

It's the one thing he really wants to know. He's not bothered about thinking if Yann will be taller than him, or fair haired or not, and he's not too bothered about what Yann looks like. He just wants to know how Yann feels about soulmates.


	3. Chapter 3

The jersey is smooth beneath his fingers. He’s waited years to actually wear it, years to finally be able to say that he plays for them and he allows himself to smile briefly. He’d much rather be actually playing but he’s pragmatic enough to realise that it’s an honour to even be on the bench at such a young age. 

He keeps the same rituals though, the socks pulled high over his knees and the undershirt tight to his hips. He carries his gloves in his hands and steps out into the stadium, following the other subs to the bench. Granit smiles at him briefly and Yann notices that he touches his inner elbow, Cassie’s name, before he crosses his body and skips to his starting position. 

He wonders if Granit has always done that and he's just not noticed because he's not had the mark before now, or if it's a new thing. Something new since they'd finally moved in together a few weeks before. 

It doesn't really matter, but it makes him think if he’ll have something similar to add to his rituals before a game. Will he touch the name on his arm once he and Roman have met? Will he do something different? Will he have his initials inscribed somewhere? On his boots or his gloves? It's something that bugs him for the rest of the game, but he tries to force it backwards so that he can concentrate, or at the very least pretend to concentrate.

It's in the shower afterward that Valentin spots it on his arm. Yann blushes softly through the water running over his face and he instinctively runs a finger over _his_ name. He gasps softly as the touch stings him for a second and then he smiles at Valentin.

“It appeared just before pre-season started.” He says, pre-empting the question. 

“And do you know who he is?”

“No. I have no idea. I don't know anybody called Roman. Did you know yours when it appeared?” He asks, soaping his skin slowly, the gel sending tingles through his arm as it slides over the mark.

“No, but I met her a few weeks later in a cafe. My brother knew his though. He was the cashier in the grocery shop down the road.”

“So why didn't his mark come earlier? Why did he know his mate but you didn't and I don't? I don't get it.”

“I don't know. I suppose it depends on circumstances. Maybe something happened in his life that made it so that you'd cross paths with him at some point soon?”

Yann nods at his teammate and shuts the shower off. He needs to ask someone in depth, someone who knows, because he needs more details on the why’s and how things work. He just needs to know. He resigns himself to the fact that it's about time he tells his parents that it's finally happened. 

The drive to Morges feels like it takes 20 hours instead of 2.

His parents hug him tightly, a little too tightly perhaps, when he arrives, and he extracts himself from his mother's arms before he stops breathing. She looks happy to see him and he smiles at her enthusiasm as she pets his cheek lovingly and then his father taps his shoulder lightly.

It's nice to be home, even for such a short time, and the feelings of safety and love almost overwhelm him when he sits down in what was once his living room. That's what his childhood home is to him; a safe haven and one of love and happiness; and it makes him smile. It makes him think that he should have come sooner, that his initial decision to keep this from them was the wrong one, but at least he's here now. 

Yann’s a little worried what his father will say when it's revealed that his soulmate is a man, but he looks proud as Yann slides the sleeve of his jacket up to show them. He grins from ear to ear and actually pulls Yann to him in what can only be described as a bear hug, whilst his mother looks on with tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

“July.” He answers quietly once he's sat down again. His mother gapes at him, clearly processing the time taken to tell them. “I'm sorry I didn't come sooner to tell you, but I just - I wanted to process it and get used to it first. Plus I've been so busy with the pre-season and then friendlies and so on.”

“There's a telephone you know dear.” His mother smiles, shifting so that her body is aligned with her husband’s. “But, thank you for telling us. It's exciting. But you didn't come all this way to just tell us that.”

As usual, Yann isn't surprised by her ability to see straight through him. He holds back a laugh and takes a breath before he asks about everything to do with soulmates, everything he should've asked before.

*

Roman is proud and so are his parents and his brother. He didn’t play, but even so, he’s 19 and on the bench in the Super League, his dream is being realised and it’s reachable. Within touching distance as they say. He strips the shirt from his body and brushes his fingers over the crest carefully before dropping it into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. The flash of silver on his arm almost catches his eye but he stops himself looking at it. 

He's found himself wanting to look at it more and more over the last few weeks and he's not sure why. He still isn't particularly keen on the whole soulmate thing, which makes it all the more strange that he's being drawn to those four little letters in the sparkling silver. It's difficult to not look but he manages it and heads for a shower to hopefully take his mind off it.

But it doesn’t. He feels a slight tingle in his arm, right over the name as the water crisscrosses his body and he looks without even realising it. It seems to look more at home with each passing day and week. It seems to be blending in with the beginnings of the sleeve of tattoos that he’s adding to each year. It just seems to fit, that it belongs there, that it’s always been there.

It bugs him slightly that something so restricting is happening to him but whilst he hates the idea of soulmates and being tied to one person, it’s mildly intriguing and something that he feels himself wanting more and more as the letters weave themselves deeper into his skin. He can almost feel the letters settling into him, dropping roots into his body, and it feels oddly right to him. 

Roman knows that Marco thinks that something has changed within him and he corners him when he gets home. 

“You’re different.” He says quietly, crowding into Roman, breath hot on Roman’s cheek as he speaks. “What’s changed?”

Roman pushes past him and wanders up the stairs. He’s all too aware that Marco is following him and won’t let it lie until he has an answer to his question, so he doesn’t try to shut him out of his room. He just leaves the door open in expectation of the barrage of questions and flops onto his bed to wait for it.

“So?”

He doesn’t speak, just rolls his sleeve up his arm and waves it in front of his brothers face. 

“Oh.” The simple word is almost imperceptible and Roman has to look at him to see if he’s actually clocked the name. “That’s good..?”

It’s more a question than a statement and Roman frowns. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” 

Roman sees the youth and naivety in his eyes and he sighs. “It feels as if we’re forced into it. Like, there’s this one person out there who is perfect for us and we lose the ability to have fun, explore and try things once the name is there. I always wanted to get out there and be young and stupid, meet someone and have a great time. But now this,” he glances at _his_ name briefly and then back to Marco, “this has appeared and I feel different. Like, none of that matters. Making mistakes doesn’t matter anymore unless I make them with him, as if the only fun I can have is with him and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

He sees the cogs working behind Marco’s eyes and the confusion that he’s evidently feeling and he closes his eyes to it. He doesn’t want his own confusion over things to be pushed over onto Marco and he suddenly wishes that it wasn’t Marco he was talking to, but someone older, someone who knows about the world and how this is all supposed to work.

“Why can’t you still have fun with somebody else? Why can’t you still be you and date the guy down the street until you meet this Yann?”

“Because no one wants to date someone with a soulmate mark Marco. Because it’s morally wrong according to the world and because no one wants to be the one a marked person falls in love with and not be their soulmate.”

“Oh, right.”

Roman can see that Marco doesn’t fully understand and neither does he, not really. All he knows is that despite all his misgivings and desires to not be marked and have a soulmate, he feels the urge to find Yann growing each and every day. And it hurts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing about this chapter has been checked over yet. If you find any mistakes please let me know! 
> 
> Also, this chapter is around a few weeks after the last one. Just for info you know.

“So, have you found anybody with the name of Roman at all?” Granit asks through a mouthful of what Yann thinks is chicken, but he’s not sure it is.

“No, how am I supposed to find him? Short of going up to every guy in the street and asking if their name is Roman, I mean.” 

He feels exasperated. His mother had done exactly what he’d thought she would do and immediately contacted all her friends and friends of friends to ask if anyone they knew had the name. She was certain that there would be one, through the whole six degrees of separation and all that, but even she’d come up short. Either, he wasn’t in the country or he was a ghost of some sort. Not that she’s given up though, according to her latest phone call.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll pop up eventually, probably when you least expect it.” It was definitely chicken.

“How does Cassie put up with you? You’re disgusting Granit. Close your mouth when you’re eating.” Yann laughs. 

He’s desperate for a way to stop thinking of it and him. He wants to find him because it’s becoming extremely irritating to think of him all the damn time and not have any clue as to who he is, beyond a simple name.

“She loves me, that’s how. I’m sure you’ll find that out as soon as you find Roman.”

“ _If_ I find him you mean. At the moment, he’s a name on my arm. 5 simple letters that mean next to nothing.” The words are quiet as he speaks, the whole thing is starting to wear him down after 2 1/2 months of nothing, not even a whisper of him anywhere. “Maybe I just need to forget about him for a while, not overthink it you know? So I think you’re right, he’ll be there when I least expect him to be really.”

“That’s the spirit. Maybe you should have a few beers and let your hair down, have some fun. Boy’s night with some of the guys after the game perhaps?”

Yann nods and sighs. He needs to stop thinking so much, it’s beginning to give him a headache. “Sounds good. My place then after the game? You can sort it all out though, your idea.”

He watches as Granit smiles at him, his mouth once more full of chicken, but mercifully he keeps it firmly shut. Small victories, Yann thinks. 

-

The locker room is alive, busy, throbbing almost in anticipation of the game. It’s the top of the table clash and everyone is ready for it. Yann looks around the room as he rolls his socks up over his shin pads, Granit is laughing with Valentin and both of them glance over at him, a smirk in place. It’s clear that they’re plotting something together, something probably not so good for his health for later on, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, as his coach calls him over to tell him that he’s starting due to a slight injury to Franco.

As Yann sits down he feels his heart begin to pound in his chest and he feels slightly dizzy from the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through him, his legs twitching quickly. He has to quickly compose himself though as it’s time to go and he sucks in a breath as he steps from the room, Granit’s hand squeezing his shoulder tightly. He feels the energy from his friend and settles, rolling his shoulders slowly and loosening his neck as he waits in the tunnel. The noise is filtering through from the stands and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he’s heard it before, but he’s never heard it from this point of view. He's never heard it directed at him, and the goosebumps feel like they're growing when he hears the cheers after his name is announced.

He's only vaguely aware of the Grasshopper players being introduced as he hops towards his goal quickly, the nerves and adrenaline being replaced by a cool and calm feeling; the feeling of familiarity. He tightens the gloves over his wrists and blocks the crowd out, his only focus being the ball and his team.

-

It's a draw. He's not happy but he’s not exactly disappointed either, he's done the best he can do on his debut and he knows that the coach is fairly pleased with his performance, it's in his eyes when he hugs him briefly on the pitch after the final whistle. He’s congratulated on his performance by his teammates and he greets the opponents with a smile and a handshake, making his way around them and the substitutes slowly. 

He’s buzzing as he wanders around the field, the crowd is clapping and slowly filtering out of the stands and he stops for a moment to just breathe it all in and commit the feeling to memory; he wants to memorise how it feels to be in this position, how it feels to be on the pitch in front of 25000 fans. 

His whole body is thrumming as the last few Grasshopper players make their way over to him, and he doesn’t notice the slight tingle in his arm as one of them, a goalkeeper, shakes his hand carefully and then wanders away from him. 

-

It’s only later when he’s at home waiting for his teammates to arrive that he spots the change in his mark, and he grabs Granit and drags him into the kitchen as soon as he steps foot through the door.

“Shit.” Is all his friend can say at first as he eyes the now grey filled letters. “You didn’t feel it?”

“Not a thing. God, Granit! I’m so annoyed, I met him today and I still don’t know who he is.” Yann almost yells, the frustration finally bubbling to the surface. He sags onto the nearest chair and presses his forehead against the cool wood of the surface, suddenly wishing that he didn’t have a house full of teammates but that he was alone with his thoughts. “How could I not notice?” He groans.

Granit slides in next to him and he feels a soft squeeze on his arm. “In your defence you weren’t exactly focusing on your burgeoning love life, but rather the fact that your career just got the kick it needed. It’s not surprising you didn’t notice, we’ll work it out.”

“How?” Yann mumbles.

“Well, if we think that you met him at the game, we can work from that surely? Maybe he was an official or something?”

Yann sits up slowly and nods. “So we’re what - gonna google it?”

“Pretty much yeah.”

By the time they have the official match information up, Valentin has joined them and is sufficiently filled in on the happenings of the day. Yann feels slightly better now that he has at least two people telling him that he’s not the idiot he thinks he is and he manages to smile slightly as he’s handed a stiff drink.

“Looks like we have two possibilities…” Granit says quietly, tapering off.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense.” Valentin chides, pressing him to continue, as Yann just watches, a sick feeling swirling around his stomach.

“Ok, ok. There’s one of the match officials called Roman and Grasshopper’s reserve goalie. Both are cute by the looks of things.”

Yann snatches the phone from Granit’s hand and his stomach flips violently, sending him to the bathroom as his body remembers the tingle in his arm when they’d shook hands.

**

Roman feels like rebelling once he knows that his parents know he’s been marked, and he curses ever telling his brother that it’s happened to him. He feels like rebelling and he does, despite the fact that he has training in the morning.

He wakes the next morning with a groan and a hand over his eyes as he realises where he is, realises that he’s in the guy down road’s bed. He feels the eyes on him and he slowly lowers his hand from his face to peer at him. He’s beautiful but Roman just doesn’t feel anything for him, it was just sex and he knows that that’s all it ever will be between them, the urge to find Yann and be in love growing strong every day.

“You didn’t say you’re marked.” Florian says quietly, a finger lightly skimming the edges of Yann’s name. 

“Neither did you.” Roman answers, looking at the silver flash on the guys elbow. “So that makes us even.”

“Mm, I suppose so. I guess we could scratch each other’s itches until we meet them? If you’re up for it that is.”

“I’m game.” Is all Roman says before dragging Florian and his blue eyes down for a kiss and another round. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with one guy, he needs to get his fun in now, soulmates be damned. 

-

Basel isn’t too far away and the bus trip a few days later is short and sweet as far as he’s concerned, not enough time to get too stiff but just enough for a power nap before the game. The distance isn’t great enough to warrant an overnight stay and he’s grateful for that, his body is grateful for that. The ache that his body feels for Florian is disturbing, even though he knows it’s only physical, but it’s a good way to let off steam and forget about everything for a while. He texts Florian with the rough time that he’ll be back and makes arrangements to bypass his parents completely and head straight to his apartment.

It’s a weird situation but at least Florian is marked too and they both know that it’s going nowhere, that love isn’t an option for either of them. He likes the way that Florian knows the planes of his body but isn’t gentle with him, bruising him and marking him as they fuck. He likes the way that Florian doesn’t expect to spend all night on the sofa cuddling or that they don’t sleep tangled together but separated slightly showing that they are lovers but not in love.

The game is drab in Roman’s opinion. Sure, there’s goals but the play really was nondescript and it was a mix of defensive errors and so-so play from the attack that has contributed to the 4 goals that are scored. He goes through the after game pleasantries with his usual cheerfulness and enthusiasm for shaking clammy hands and accepting sweaty hugs and stops in the centre circle looking around. He spots the Basel goalie standing near the home fans with an almost wistful look on his face and smiles. He wants that someday and he hopes that he’ll get it soon as he wanders over to the young man, ‘Sommer’ as his shirt calls him.

Roman offers him his hand and accepts the returning smile gratefully before moving away from him to let the rest of his team greet him and congratulate him on a good debut. He’s sure he feels a tingle run down his arm but he puts it down to being sat in the cold for nearly 2 hours and moves across to the tunnel without so much as a backwards glance.

-

Florian looks sleepy when he arrives after 10pm, but Roman doesn’t care, he needs release, he needs to get out the drab game and the travelling that he’s done to sit on the bench, so he pushes into the apartment and pins the smaller man to the wall, kissing him harshly. He tastes of alcohol and cigarettes but Roman pushes it to one side, blocking out the staleness of them to taste him further, to bruise his own lips with the forcefulness of his desire.

He feels Florian stiffen below him and then he’s slipping past Roman, losing his shirt on the way and Roman follows, knowing that he’ll get his release, knowing that he’ll wake in the morning slightly sticky with the smell of stale sweat lingering on his body until he showers and slips home.

He’s panting and just about to come when Florian eyes him strangely and pushes him away, scrabbling back to find the covers underneath him and haul them over his hips as if he’s embarrassed and startled. 

“What the-” Roman starts, but stops as he follows Florian’s gaze to his arm. “Shit.” He sinks back on to the bed with a thud and stares at the name on his arm. No longer an outline in silver, but a solid grey. “I didn't- I don't- shit.” He repeats.

“You didn't know?”

“No. Oh my god no. I wouldn't have come here if I did. I'm sorry Florian.”

“Don't be, this is good. This is good news for you.”

“Yeah, except I still don't have a clue who he is.” Roman sighs in defeat. He racks his brain to try to pinpoint the moment, thinking of anything and everything he did, anything that stands out as he met someone new. All he can think of is the slight shiver that had worked through his arm when he’d met the other goalie, and he wonders. He wonders if that's it, if it's him. 

Before he can stop himself he's googling the FC Basel squad and the goalkeepers in particular. “Oh god.” He mumbles. “It's him. Yann Sommer.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your help on this bit Nic! :-*

Sleepless nights have become Yann's thing over the last few days. Sleepless through his own stupidity, through his own ignorance and ego. And when he does get to sleep all he sees is his face. _Roman_.

The face of the man who made his arm tingle and his mark change, but he didn't even notice because he was so consumed by his pride and the feeling of having made it to where he wanted, even though it was one single game, brought on by injury. 

He lies staring at the ceiling, face bathed in the soft blinking from his clock, and groans. It’s 4am, he has training in a little over 6 hours and he’s so far slept for about 30 minutes before he woke up in a cold sweat from seeing Roman’s face slowly going dark, disappearing from his sight with _‘It’s your own fault’_ echoing in his ears.

He’s not quite sure what the dream is trying to tell him, but if he has to guess, he’d say that it’s about him not even noticing that he was meeting his soulmate when they shook hands, and that he’s worried of losing him before he’s even met him. 

But then, that’s what it is. A dream. In reality, it means nothing, except that he’s beating himself up over something that’s fairly small in the grand scheme of things. As Granit is fond of saying, he’s only 21, a few extra days or weeks without actually knowing Roman won’t do him any harm. There’s plenty of time ahead of them.

So, why can’t he sleep?

Eventually, he’s unable to stand the dark anymore or the ceiling, so he sits up and flicks on the bedside lamp to cast some light into the room. He sighs and his arm reaches out automatically for his phone and the screen shot he’s taken of Grasshopper’s player profile on him. 

_Roman Bürki._

It feels slightly weird to have that saved but given his idiocy of the other day this is what he’s resorted to. Because he’s absolutely certain that it’s this Roman and not the other one, the one that Granit and Valentin keep mentioning. He remembers clearly that nothing was different when he shook the official’s hand on either occasion and he remembers, or at least he’s 95% sure he does anyway, a slight tingle down his arm when he was shaking _that_ hand.

Also, it’s far too much of a coincidence that Roman Bürki just happened to sign on loan for Grasshopper on the very same day that his name appeared on Yann’s elbow. Yann’s positive that there’s no such thing as coincidences.

He reads the profile again, the backlight of his phone dimmed down to save his eyes, and scans back to the picture. The smile is uplifting, for lack of a better word, and the eyes are as clear as the water at Zürichsee, but with a depth to them that he's never seen before. He doesn’t remember too much of him from the brief few seconds he looked at his face, but he knows that it’s all sorts of wonderful from his profile picture and he really just wants to look at it again. But in person, not through a 3” phone screen.

He glances at the clock and sighs. He can’t keep doing this, he can’t keep staying awake until all hours because of someone he’s barely said 2 words to. He shuts the phone off, making sure it’s actually off so there’s no temptation to stare anymore, flicks the light off with a huff and wriggles back down under the covers.

Sleep eventually comes, but so do the dreams.

-

“You look like shit.” Granit frowns, to the point as ever.

Yann shrugs in his general direction and steps by him to the locker room to get changed, aware that his friend is following him. He doesn’t want to tell him he’s having dreams of Roman, or possibly nightmares depending on your outlook, but he knows he really should. A problem shared and all that.

He briefly wonders if Granit has any friends in Zurich. Wonders if he could somehow get some more information on Roman than just his vital statistics. Things like a favourite film or colour or chocolate. Small things but important things. But then, he thinks back to where he skims stones at Zürichsee and considers the prospect of Roman somehow being around there when he goes back to that, but it’s far too much of a stab in the dark.

Instead, he decides that it’s time to talk.

“I keep seeing his face when I try to sleep.” He says quietly to Granit, as he tugs his leggings over his hips and covers them with his shorts. “I can’t sleep because of him, because of me.”

“Well, clearly you’re positive that it’s him, that it’s the goalie Roman, so on the brightside you know what he looks like now. And I’m assuming you’ve done some research on him?”

“You could say that, yeah.” He snorts. Not that he wants to tell Granit just how much he has done. “Not that it helps me at all. Knowing his height and his birthday are all well and good, but I don’t know him.”

Granit pats his knee affectionately and smiles. “But you know who he is, which makes it all easier now. We just have to figure out how to actually get you two to meet properly.”

“And sleep.” 

“And sleep. Yes. That would be good. Bags are so not a good look for you. Especially if you have to woo your soulmate.”

The word strikes a chord with Yann and he bites his lip in thought. “Do you think he knows too.”

“He’d be an idiot if he didn’t, but I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he’s my soulmate, but I’m not his?”

Granit rolls his eyes and punches his thigh this time. “Really? Really Yann? All this time and you’ve not figured it out. I thought you’d spoken to your parents about all this….. He’s yours and you’re his. That’s how it works. So stop panicking and coming to conclusions that are only making you feel worse.”

He knows that Granit is right, but there’s still this nagging doubt at the back of his mind telling him that he hadn’t noticed, that Roman hadn’t noticed either, because maybe they weren’t meant for each other.

It takes him a second to tune in and realise that Granit is still talking “- and he could probably help you get together. Maybe you could take him stone skimming at Zürichsee seeing as you love it there so much.”

“What?” Yann asks, shaking his head and blinking hard to refocus himself.

“I said that I have a friend at Grasshopper who could - you know what? Nevermind. I’ll sort it out for you and let you know.”

Yann stares at him blankly for a few seconds and then smiles. He always knew there was a reason that he was friends with Granit.

**

Roman feels like he keeps seeing and hearing Yann’s name everywhere. It felt like his name was every second name in the official match report of their game and it feels like he’s mentioned on TV in every single sports report he’s seen. So, instead of thinking about Yann, he throws himself into extra training sessions, determined that if they are soulmates he’ll be the better of the two. He’ll be the one called up to the national squad and he’ll be the first choice goalie if they both make it there. 

The extra training is hard work though and he spends what little time he does have away from football curled up in bed sleeping. On the one hand he’s not thinking of Yann but on the other hand he feels like he’s slowly going insane. That, or he’s turning into a football.

The problem he has is that he doesn’t really have anyone to talk to. Marco is too young to understand the complications of soulmates, he’s still relatively new at the football club and hasn’t really struck up that type of friendship yet and Florian, well, he could talk to him he supposes, but their interactions have changed since that day. Their relationship was only ever meant as fun but Roman feels guilty that he didn’t notice the change in his mark and that it was Florian who did, at an awkward time to say the least. 

So that’s why training wins out. His competitive edge bubbling to the surface and boiling over.

In the moments when he isn’t training and he’s awake he does sometimes wonder if Yann has someone to talk to and, quite surprisingly to him, he also wonders if Yann thinks about him.

He guesses he does, because occasionally he feels this soft tingle in his elbow that has nothing to do with the weather. He does notice the feelings this time, feels as if he’s somehow become more attuned to what the name on his arm is doing. He doesn’t want to, but he does.

He seems to feel it more acutely in the middle of the night, and most nights, which isn't really a fun thing. He isn't sure what it means, is Yann dreaming of him? Can’t he sleep? Is he wondering why they didn't realise it was each other?

Usually, he rolls over and goes back to sleep, too tired to really care too much, but the ghost of a tingle is still there in the morning. It does make him think if Yann's mark tingles when he thinks of him, makes him wonder if Yann knows that Roman is thinking of him. He resolves to stop thinking of him until they've met properly. He doesn't want to dwell on why they're soulmates, he doesn't want to dwell on whether they're actually made for other. He wants to find it out for himself.

-

Florian is smiling when he opens the door and Roman knows. He just knows.

“When?” He asks, as he parks himself on the sofa. 

“This morning in the park. I was running and I kinda tripped over his dog.” Roman snorts at that, and Florian swats at his arm. “Pathetic I know, but it was one of those small white things, fluffy like a cloud and I didn't see it. Anyway, he came over and offered me his hand to get up, and I saw it change.”

“You actually saw your name?”

“Yeah, he had a t-shirt on and it was just there in front of my face in my handwriting, and it was silver and then it wasn't anymore, and there was this shiver running through me and I knew.”

“I'm so pleased for you.” Roman smiles genuinely and he feels lighter. Feels as if maybe Florian is the person he can talk to now. Maybe now he's found his own soulmate things can go back to the way they were, minus the sex. 

Florian can barely keep the smile off his face and it's actually infectious, so much so that Roman feels his cheeks start to burn but it's ok because he's enjoying himself. But it also makes him stop and think that maybe, just maybe, he should want to be with Yann and want to meet him properly. The way that Florian is enthusing over Michael and everything about him; from the way his smile lights up his face to the way his hand feels in his own; is making Roman yearn to meet Yann in a way that he really wants to fight against, but he can't. 

He never wanted this. He never wanted to be bound to someone that wasn't his choice, he never wanted to feel a longing for someone he’s never really spoken to, but it's there. It's deep in his chest and he can't make it stop. It's winding around his skin and digging in like a vine with thorns and he wants it to stop. He wants it to end.

Despite everything he's ever said or thought about having a soulmate somewhere, despite hating the idea of them, hating the thought of being made for one solitary person, he wants to meet Yann. He needs to meet Yann.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penny for your thoughts to keep me going??


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Granit is Granit: A pain in Yann's ass. But a helpful one.
> 
> Both Roman and Yann's views and thoughts on soulmates are changing, as well as all that goes with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry. This should not have taken this much time, but damn the muse and all that goes with it.
> 
> As for the chapter: Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> (You'll see what I mean)

Yann has already established that Granit is a pain in his ass, but this is just…. More. 

Granit is gesticulating wildly, his arms swirling and mouth working a mile a minute as he explains his plan to Valentin. He’s not really explaining it to Yann, because he doesn’t need to. Yann has no choice but to go along with anything he says unless he doesn’t really want to meet Roman until they either play each other again, or someone calls them up to a national squad together. Either of those scenarios are months away at the very least and he’s not prepared to wait any longer.

His sleepless nights are worsening with every passing day. He swears that in the dead of night when he’s restless, mind alert and thinking of Roman that he feels a spark in his arm, a flash running over the 5 letters pressed deep into his skin and his soul. Something about it makes him wonder if Roman is awake and thinking of him too. But then the wondering keeps him awake for even longer and he needs to stop it. He needs something to grab hold of, anything to stop whatever is happening to his body and mind. 

He finds himself looking out for news and gossip coming out of Zurich, snatching papers up whenever he can get them and signing up for email alerts on Roman’s name as well as the club. It's bordering on an obsession really and he's worrying himself if he's being truly honest. Thankfully he's hidden the true extent from Granit and Valentin but they know something, which explains the hasty way they're taking.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is good for me. So you'll pick me up and then we’ll get him and head to Zurich?” Valentin grins.

“Do I not get a say in this?” Yann groans, sighing heavily.

“If we gave you the choice you'd continue on and talk yourself out of anything. You've wanted this for so long Yann that we’re, not going to let you fuck it up because you're scared.”

“Fine.” Yann says in defeat, throwing his hands into the air. “What time?” 

“10am. Be ready and be extra cute.” Granit smirks.

Yann rolls his eyes. It's definitely time to go home.

-

For some reason he sleeps better that night than he has in weeks, months even. Maybe it's the prospect of finally putting a personality and a voice to the face and name? Or maybe it's because he finally gets to say hello to the person he's supposed to be with, and say it knowing that Roman is his soulmate?

Either way, he actually feels refreshed when he wakes up. He feels a little lighter, as if a weight has lifted. _It's today. _The realisation draws a smile onto his face as he sits up, a genuine smile that he hasn't felt since, well, he can't remember when. Possibly since he'd ‘met’ Roman without realising it.__

__Granit whistles and looks him up and down appraisingly when Yann opens the door. “I said extra cute, not so hot that even though I’m straight, I’d do you. Damn Yann, he won’t be able to resist you.”_ _

__Yann rolls his eyes and fishes his keys off the counter, stuffing them into his pocket as he pushes past Granit and lets the door swing shut behind. “No offence Granit, but even if you were gay, it’d be a no from me.”_ _

__He hears Granit laugh from behind him as he wanders down the stairs. “None taken, but then why are you wiggling your ass at me?”_ _

__“Why are you looking at my ass?”_ _

__“Fair point, come on, let’s go. Let’s get you all soulmated up with Mr Bürki.”_ _

__Valentin is dozing in the front seat when Yann slides in behind him, he only wakes up once Granit prods at him and turns over the engine. He grunts a hello at Yann and rolls his head back against the window, taking only seconds before he’s sound asleep again and snoring softly._ _

__Traffic is mercifully ok, and the trip takes just over 90 minutes, which is just enough time for Yann to wonder how everything will go and not enough time for him to really start the doom mongering. Granit seems to understand how he’s kind of feeling if his attempts at conversation are anything to go by. He’s not normally one for discussing the weather or last nights tv programs, but he does today. And Yann is actually thankful for it, as the inane conversations take his mind off Roman and the impending start to his future life. Sort of._ _

__It’s always there in the back of his mind. Even when he’s not actively thinking of him and it. It’s the nagging doubt of whether they’ll actually like each other and get on. Whether the whole “we’re both goalkeepers” thing will affect them and if so, will it be positive or negative?_ _

__“We’re here.” Granit states, putting the car into park and punching Valentin in the arm to wake him up. “We’re getting lunch first though, I’m starving.”_ _

__“Granit it’s 11.40… isn’t that too early?” Valentin grumbles._ _

__“Not when I had breakfast at 6am. Come on, wake up grumpy pants. Yann needs us.”_ _

__At his name, Yann scowls, and flicks Grant’s ear as hard as he can. “Oi. I’m still here you know.”_ _

__“Ugh, let’s just feed him Yann, and hopefully he’ll calm down.”_ _

__“And you’ll wake up?”_ _

__Granit just manages to dodge out of the way of Valentin’s swat and is out of the car in a flash, with a grin. Yann sighs as he watches Granit through the window and listens to Valentin grumble as he extracts himself from his seat._ _

__He’s nervous. He can feel them building, perhaps they have been doing since yesterday, and he suddenly feels sick. This is all he’s ever wanted. To be this close, to meet him and finally know who he really is. So why does he feel scared too? Why does he feel like he wants to crawl into himself and wish himself back to Basel? Why do his feet feel like lead and why are his hands shaking?_ _

__Why -_ _

__“Come on.” Granit interrupts him, knocking on the window to break him out of his thoughts._ _

__Lunch is slow and uneventful, even if he feels like he can’t keep anything down, and he’s actually really happy that it’s over. He really does feel like he wants to get this over with as fast as possible, just to finally say that it’s done. He’s met him properly. Perhaps that would stop the ridiculous thoughts that are running through his brain._ _

__They head over to the bar on the banks of Zürichsee that Granit’s friend had picked for them to meet in and Yann recognises it as the one he’s been to before when he’s been here skimming stones. It’s something, a little piece of familiarity that sets him at ease somewhat as he sinks into a chair on the outdoor patio._ _

__He takes in the view and tries to relax as he waits, but it’s no good. Not even the one solitary drink that Granit hands to him as a nerve settler helps, it just makes him feel worse, if that’s possible._ _

__“Do you think he’ll like me?” He whispers to no-one in particular, probably to himself, and certainly not expecting an answer._ _

__“I don’t see how he couldn’t not like you.” Valentin says as he sips his drink. “You’re the nicest person I know - yes even including you Granit! If he doesn’t then there’s something wrong with him. Although the whole both being goalies could be an issue, I’ll admit that.”_ _

__“Thanks. I think.” He’s not sure whether the words are a help or not and he doesn’t get too much time to consider it as he feels a tingle in his arm, or more of a spark this time, or maybe he’s just more attuned to it now._ _

__He glances at his arm and the tingle comes again. He knows he’s here and he glances up towards the entrance to the patio slowly._ _

__He’s gorgeous._ _

__**_ _

__He has to make it stop. He has to dig the thorns from his skin and stop the constriction that he feels pressing deeper and deeper into him._ _

__It's an odd feeling for Roman, and not one that he would've thought he'd feel. He'd always assumed he'd feel annoyance and slight ire at being forced together with someone. Irritation or resignation maybe, but not this. Not this feeling of needing to meet someone and a feel of anticipation almost. Strange only half covers it._ _

__He sees it in Marco’s eyes too and the slightly smug “I knew you'd come round” smirk on his lips. If he wasn't Roman's younger brother he's fairly certain he'd have punched him by now just to make him stop staring for 5 seconds._ _

__Florian is his sanctuary of sorts. He was before, but in a different way now. Less physical and more emotional sharing. He helps. He's living it, although that’s different too. He didn't have to see the name in grey and wait until he could talk to him, he didn't have is “will he or won't he” period of time._ _

__They talk and talk and Roman learns way more about Michael than he should. Florian really can't help himself and Roman wonders if he'll be like this when he's met Yann properly. Will he not be able to stop himself from going on about him? Will it be instant love or will they have to learn. Will they even like each other?_ _

__There's so many questions that he needs answers to and he figures that the only way to get them is to find him. He just doesn't know how beyond waiting for their next match._ _

__-_ _

__“So, Granit rang last night. He wants to meet up for a drink tomorrow and for some reason he asked me to bring you along. Any reason why?”_ _

__Roman looks up at Kay from where he's undoing his boots and frowns. Granit? He racks his brain trying to figure out if he knows anybody with that name, but he comes up blank. He shrugs at him and shakes his head. “I don't even know him.”_ _

__“He plays for Basel. Granit Xhaka.”_ _

__“Oh.” It clicks. Basel. Yann. “Oh.”_ _

__He doesn’t want to explain it to somebody else, especially not someone he’s not particularly close with but he has to. It takes him less than 2 minutes to explain in loose details about Yann and the mark to Kay, and by the end he's feeling a bit more relieved as Kay is smiling at him warmly. It makes sense to him now too and he seems keen to help._ _

__“Ok. So meet me at the bar on the lakeside at 1pm tomorrow and wear that leather jacket you wore to that team thing last month. You look good in that.”_ _

__Roman blushes at the compliment but nods and waves Kay off as he continues to get undressed out of his kit._ _

__Tomorrow. Yann. He wonders if the vine will loosen when it finally happens._ _

__-_ _

__He’s nervous and he wishes that he knows why he’s shaking. He’s just meeting someone new, that’s all._ _

__Except it isn’t and his body and mind know it. And they want to show just how much. He’d be lying if he said that he’s never taken so long to style his hair. But he blames that purely on his the shakes in his hand and not the fact that he wants to look as good as he can, because Yann? He’s not exactly hard to look at._ _

__The walk to the bar is short enough that he can’t get worked up, but long enough to clear his mind slightly. By the time he arrives he’s still nervous, but he’s somehow managed to convince himself that he’s just having drinks with friends of friends and it’s nothing special._ _

__Sadly, his heart doesn’t seem to grasp that concept and when Kay claps him on the back and gestures to go inside he suddenly feels it racing and hammering on his ribs, making him feel a little sick. He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before following Kay in to the bar and round to the patio._ _

__As he rounds the corner he pulls the jacket to make sure it’s perfect and plasters a warm smile onto his face to try to hide just how nervous he actually is. He thinks it works because Kay glances at him and nods encouragingly as they come into view._ _

__He feels Yann look at him rather than sees it, and he feels the vine twist slightly and loosen around his skin. He flicks his eyes to Yann and Yann alone, and holds his gaze as he nears the table._ _

__The pictures do not do him justice at all._ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yann and Roman finally meet and it doesn't exactly go as Yann had planned it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies.
> 
> I know this seems that Roman has done a 180 from previous chapters, but bear with me. You'll get his thoughts shortly. (I hope.)

Yann feels as if he can’t breathe as he stares at Roman. He wants to look away from him, but he can’t, he feels drawn to him. It’s almost as if something bad will happen to him if he isn’t looking at Roman, and he feels his chest start to tighten even more as he nears their table. It aches deep inside, his heart beats violently against his ribs, and his stomach twists sharply as Roman’s eyes pierce him.

“Yann, stop staring.” Granit nudges him with his elbow, bringing him out of whatever the hell this is.

He mumbles nothing at all that even sounds like words and blinks slowly, tearing his gaze away from Roman for the first time since he appeared, but only for a few seconds before he _has_ to look back at him. He’s more than gorgeous, it seems more than that, more than that simple word, but he doesn’t feel like he can describe it. There’s an air around him that he can’t quite put a name to or work out and it’s intriguing.

“Kay!” Granit grins warmly.

Yann barely registers the greetings between them all, he’s too focused and taken with Roman to even acknowledge that there are others there, until Granit nudges him again, but sharper this time.

“Sorry?” He says.

“This is Kay, and Roman.”

Begrudgingly, he breaks the gaze again to shake Kay’s hand and greet him briefly, possibly rudely, but the smaller man doesn’t seem to mind going by the smile and raised eyebrows. He feels the blush creep to his cheeks and he fixes back on to Roman.

“Uh, hi.” He sticks out a hand towards him and waits as Roman regards him quietly.

“Hello.” 

The voice and the handshake just seem so… him. Even though, it’s the first time they’ve spoken, technically. They’re also so very warm and comforting for some reason. He’s never thought of a touch like that before from someone he doesn’t know, or a voice beyond his father’s, but they are and it spreads through him like wildfire, pushing the tightness in his chest away to make room for the feeling. 

He sees the apprehension in Roman eyes and swallows back his nerves, as it’s clear that Roman is just as nervous about this as he is, despite his outward bluster. The fact that Roman is feeling this just as much as he is is encouraging and he allows himself to smile slightly. 

“I’m Yann.” He says softly, letting go of his hand, suddenly aware that he’s kept hold of it for a little too long.

“And I’m Roman, but you know that right?” 

Yann laughs, quickly realising that it’s gone quiet around them. “Yeah, I did.”

They sit and Yann can't help it, no matter how many times Granit nudges him or kicks him, he stares. It's not polite and it's not exactly becoming, but Roman is… Well, he's gorgeous as he already knew. But it's better in the flesh. He's slightly tanned and fresh faced with deep eyes that Yann realises he could get lost in quickly if he wished to. 

He’s also quiet. And Yann senses that Roman only speaks when he has something important to say, especially to people he doesn’t know. Which is everyone except Kay. So for the most part he sits and observes, his eyes sweeping from Yann to the others and back again. Yann gets the impression that Roman is trying to decipher him from what he’s saying and his interactions and it’s slightly disconcerting. 

It’s not exactly how he imagines it as the time ticks by. It’s awkward really. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say to someone who, according to the universe, he’s supposed to live his life with and share the greatest adventures. Is he supposed to dive right in? Take it slow? 

It’s sort of exasperating really. But it doesn’t that Roman doesn’t exactly seem into it. Perhaps that’s it. All his life he’s been surrounded by people who wanted a soulmate, people who’d embraced it and welcomed it. And then there’s Roman who seems… reluctant.

He’s broken from his thoughts by Granit, Valentin and Kay getting up under the premise of the bar and he smiles sarcastically. This is the point where they’re supposed to talk about them and how this works and everything and really? Awkward doesn’t quite cut it now. Not from Roman’s bored expression.

“You don’t really want to be here do you?” Yann says after some time.

“It’s not that. I do. But I can’t help but feel that I’m too young for this, and why should the universe dictate who I should be with at this stage of my life? Why does the universe get to map my life out and deny me the right of making my own mistakes and falling in love with whoever captures me?”

“I understand that, but don’t you think there’s a reason why it’s paired us? Don’t you want to know why us? Why me?” 

“Yes, of course. But I want to live. I’m 19. I don’t want to settle down yet, I don’t want my life set out for me just yet. You seem like the type of guy I could get on with, and you must be if the world thinks we should be together but I don’t want this right now. I just want to be, you know?”

Yann sighs. He knows that Roman is right to feel that way, and if that’s how he feels then there’s nothing he can do about it, but it stings all the same. “I understand.” Is all he can say, as he drops his eyes to the floor, away from Roman for the longest time yet.

“Look, please don’t take this as me rejecting you, because I’m not.” Roman’s voice is soft and sincere and Yann feels him move around to sit by him. “I just need some time to process this and grow up some more. Maybe in time, I’ll fall in love with you, but I don’t want to yet.”

Yann nods without looking at Roman, he knows it’s not rejection, knows it’s a lot more complicated than that but even so, it feels that way. Feels as if Roman doesn't want him. 

From the feelings of happiness and weightlessness at the start of the day he now feels beaten and down, as if his feet are encased in concrete and his heart in ice. 

“So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?” Yann says, trying to smile and looking at him finally. 

“I don't know Yann. I really don't. Maybe we should exchange numbers and see where we go from here?” Yann nods at him again and reaches for his phone as Roman continues. “I've had this sense of anticipation of meeting you, since I figured out who you were. A sense of building excitement inside, but that still hasn't dampened the need for me to be free. And I know that that doesn't make a whole lot of sense right now, but I just… I don't want to resent you for not living a life.”

Yann can see the conflict in Roman’s eyes and on his face, a conflict that shouldn't be there at 19, a conflict that he should be free of. They both should be free of. 

“Ok. Just… Just give me a call when you're ready.” The words hurt. But he has the feeling that it's what's best for Roman. What he wants. And he knows he has to give it to him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman reacts to his own decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly: I'm sorry.
> 
> Secondly: I'm sorry. 
> 
> Thirdly: Please don't hate me.

He's 19.

19 and terrified.

He's too young to be bonded with someone forever, he thinks. Too young to settle down and be with just one single solitary person. 

And he throws up when he gets home. 

Yann was nice, too nice and Roman feels horrible for not being what and who Yann wants him to be, for walking away from him and making him wait for him. 

He knows that he’ll be with Yann. He's knows because of Yann's name on his arm, but it's more than that. He knows because of how he felt as soon as he saw him and touched him and talked to him properly. And he knows because of how Yann understood his reasons and let him go.

And so, he feels dreadful. 

He likes him, he's beautiful and friendly and funny and understanding and Roman wants him. He really does. 

But he's 19. And he just can't do it yet, despite the feelings that he has. There's an indescribable pull towards Yann: his body tingled when they shook hands properly, and there was a wrench in his chest when he walked away from him and an ache that he feels now when he's thinking about him.

All of it makes him feel like he's the worst person on the face of the earth. He's met the one, his soulmate, his life partner. But he’s left him behind. 

He clings to toilet bowl and retches again. 

He knows he was right to leave Yann there at the bar, his mind tells him it was the right thing to do, to go and experience life, make a career and have adventures and make memories before coming back to Yann. Memories to share with Yann. But his heart hates him for it. 

His heart hammers in his chest, thumping a rhythm against his ribs that says _you're an idiot, you're wrong, this is a mistake_ , as he kneels on the cold tiles. 

Eventually he moves, his body resisting, wanting him to stay there on the bathroom floor, but he has to move. He has to make himself presentable before his parents get home. 

He knows that he should tell them, that he should ask their advice but he thinks that they wouldn't understand, that they'd want him to be with Yann, to settle down as they did. So he can't. He doesn't want to explain to them his reasons. 

The reasons he's been through over and over again in his mind. The reasons he's listed out, pros and cons of them alongside, only to come back to the same conclusion. 

But then there's explaining to them who Yann is. Swiss U21 goalkeeper, likely full national side in a few years. A rival. And then there's the prospect of their careers taking wildly different paths. Of being in cities in possibly different countries or even continents. 

Can he be with Yann and be hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles apart? Can he be with Yann and only see him every few months? Can he be with Yann and want to beat him? To be better than him in every way he'd need to be?

Can they be who they are and what they are and still be together? Goalkeepers. Rivals. Soulmates.

The water is cold when he splashes it on his face, but it doesn't help, his mind is still whirring and he still feels like he's made both the right and the wrong decision at the same time. And he wonders how Yann is feeling. 

Is he ok? Is he wondering what he did wrong to make Roman say what he did and do what he did? 

_”Maybe in time, I’ll fall in love with you, but I don’t want to yet.”_

“Jesus Roman. Way to crush a guy.” He mutters, staring at himself in the mirror. 

He imagines Yann doing the same thing; staring at himself, telling himself it's his fault, that he's not who Roman wants in his life; and he curses himself.

He feels for his phone in his pocket and plucks it out, tapping it against his cheek softly, toing and froing, weighing up if he should or not. 

He doesn't. He can't. He'd only make it worse between them. 

It's then that he notices his arm is on fire. It feels like it's burning, exactly where Yann's name is imprinted. He pushes the sleeve up and stares at the name, _his_ name. It's red and raised, the pale text stark against the tan and the red. It looks angry and in pain. 

And he knows.

He knows that Yann is broken. That he's in pain. That he's thinking of him. 

He wonders if Yann knows that he's thinking of him too. Perhaps not in the same way, but still, that he's on Roman's mind. That Roman feels guilty and sick.

He splashes Yann's name with the water and winces as it burns a bit more against. 

“You're an idiot.” He mutters to himself, eyes fixed to the neat print, and the glow around it.

It's as if his body is punishing him, as if his body knows what he's done and wants him to know that it's angry with him, that it wants Yann, needs Yann. But really, it's just that Yann is thinking of him, thinking of him and wishing things were different, wondering if he's good enough for Roman. If Roman was telling him the truth. 

Maybe he thinks that Roman rejected him. That he was lying about needing time. 

“Oh God.”

_**To Yann: I'm so so sorry. I know you're hurting. I can feel it. I can feel your pain through your name, I can feel the power of it on my skin, in my skin, and I'm just… I need you to know that I'm not rejecting you.** _

_**I want you and I can feel that I need you. I can feel that you're who I need in my life, that you're who will make me whole and complete. That you're who will make everything seem right in the years to come.** _

_**I already feel myself loving you, if that's even possible from one meeting for an hour, I already feel that my heart belongs to you and no one else. But I also feel that I'm too young, we’re too young for all this. To deal with this and our lives, our profession.** _

_**I know that it's normal and that clubs work around these things, but we're fighting for the same thing, the same position and I don't know if I can do that and be learning how to live with something I've fought against my whole life.** _

_**I guess I may be making this worse and making you feel even worse, and if so, I'm sorry, I really am. I hope you can forgive me for what I've done today and that you can wait for me to be ready for you. To be ready to love you, and to be ready to be loved by you.** _

_**I'm scared, and I know that you are too, I can feel that as well.** _

_**I'm scared, but I’m sure I just need time. And I'm sure that you'll feel when I'm ready.** _

_**I'm sorry.** _

_**Roman.** _

He reads and rereads and then rereads again. Wondering if it'll make things better or worse. He hovers over the send button, but instead he locks his phone, leaving the message where it is for now. 

-

Sleep is hard. He can't seem to fall asleep at all, his mind running away from him, showing him Yann's face every few seconds. And his arm is still scorching. 

Every so often he feels a jolt through it, a spark of something and his mind freezes for a moment before resuming its punishment of him. Before showing him Yann again, this time with tears down his face.

He must fall asleep at some point because suddenly his phone is ringing shrilly in his ear, buzzing against the sideboard, not stopping, not letting him just doze for a bit longer past 8am.

He blindly reaches out for it to stop it from hurting him some more and grasps the small device as tightly as he can, unlocking it to shut it up and turn it off.

It's a few minutes before he realises that he never shut down the message app before locking the phone last night. He never closed the app, he never came off the message he'd written out to Yann but hadn't sent.

He looks.

It's gone. The box is green. 

_Delivered: 8:02am._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yann reacts to Roman's decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna give you a warning.... 
> 
> as you probably know, this won't be good. At all. So have tea, rum, chocolate, or anything else that comforts you to hand.......
> 
> Sorry.

Yann's heart feels like it has ice in it. Either that or there's a thousand tiny pins are sticking into it and are slowly draining all the blood into his chest cavity. Or maybe not, but whatever it is, it hurts.

He wants to cry, so very badly, but he can't. Something is stopping him, something that he can't quite put his finger on. Maybe it's the pain in his chest or the constant itching in his skin, in the name, _his name_. Or maybe it's the sting of his soulmate not wanting him. _Rejecting_ him maybe.

He sighs and leans his forehead against the car window. It's cool and damp with compensation and it feels nice against his skin. It takes his mind off the pain for just a few seconds and for that he's thankful, but then it's back and it's blinding. So blinding that it's blurring his vision round the edges. 

Is this what it feels like? Rejection. 

Is it the twisting knots in his stomach and the ice in his veins? Is it the throbbing headache that shakes his skull and the clenching throat that threatens to choke him? 

He bangs his head against the window but jerks back when Valentin reaches a hand back to gently push his forehead away from the glass to stop him hurting himself. His hand is warm, too warm and it only hurts more. The cold is better, it numbs the pain just a little bit and he pulls away from the hand, eyes glancing up to Valentin's. 

There's pity there. Pity he doesn't need or want. He wants a drink. He _needs_ a drink. Something strong preferably. But not with Valentin and Granit, they'd veto it straight away, remind him of his responsibilities and his training schedule.

He groans and closes his eyes. 

But all he sees is Roman. The eyes, the warmth in them and the depth behind them. The way they crinkled at the corner when he smiled and the way they sparkled as he laughed. The soft skin of his cheeks and the faint blush on them as Yann smiled at him. The smile. The smile that lit up Yann's whole body and made him smile even more than he already was. The hair that he wants to touch and brush aside, push his fingers into. He just sees him and snaps his eyes open.

He doesn't want toes him. He really doesn't but he can't help it.

He figures he must've fallen asleep when Granit is nudging him gently and ushering him awake. His eyes open slowly and he sees the worried look Granit’s eyes, but there's something else there too. Something strong and protective. Fierce.

“Are we home?” He mumbles groggily.

“Yeah. Come on, let's get you inside. It's getting cold.” 

Yann snorts. He's welcoming of the cold right now, he'd love to sit out in it for a while to take the edge off, but he follows Granit reluctantly and barely nudges the door of his flat open.

He bites his lip as he steps inside and remembers how excited he was just a few hours ago, how happy he was and now….. now he's crushed.

He hadn't even realised that Granit had followed him inside until he hears mugs being clattered around and the kettle being filled. He assumed that Granit just wanted to make sure he got inside safely.

“Chamomile tea.” Granit says softly a little while later, as Yann stares out of his window at the Basel skyline.

Yann nods softly and takes the cup from him, giving Granit a barely there smile. He feels bad but it's all he can muster right now. He's broken. Doesn't even know what to do, how to proceed. He's 21 and it feels as if his life is over. 

“You should get some sleep Yann.” Granit bumps him with his shoulder, jolting him awake. “Go on. I can tell coach you're sick tomorrow if you can't face it. Just text me. Or call me. Please.”

Yann turns to him, lips dry and mouth parched, he hasn't touched the tea yet. “Thanks.” His voice is gravelly. It sounds like he's a shell of himself and he winces at it, wondering if he left himself when Roman walked away. 

Granit’s gone. It's been hours. The tea lies forgotten, cold, on the coffee table, untouched, with his phone beside it, dark and quiet. The only sounds are from messages from Valentin and Granit. Left unread. He really can't take their pity right now, or their care. 

The rum is there, an empty glass beside it and Yann contemplates it. He really does, but despite needing a drink, wanting one, the idea makes him feel sick to the pit of his stomach, makes bile rise up in his throat at the mere thought of one sip of it. Instead he stares blankly at the tv screen, fingers unconsciously running over Roman's name on his elbow. Running over and around the 5 small letters pressed deep into his skin and his soul.

That's when the crying starts finally. He starts and he can't stop. The tears just roll down his cheeks, steadily dropping onto his shirt from his chin. There's no sobbing or wailing or gripping his chest it hurts so much, they're just there constantly. A stream of hot salt leaving stains down his cheeks as he lets the previous hours filter through him at last. 

Roman seemed so nice, so welcoming and warm, so strong. And Yann liked him, _likes him_ , it had seemed so easy to do so. With the smile and the eyes that he can't escape now, the different shades of brown gazing back at him, drawing him in. And it had seemed mutual. Perhaps it was, is. But then the rejection came. 

_I don't want to yet._

He replays it over and over in his mind as he sits there, his arm burning like fire. Had he been too eager? Too strong? Is it his fault? What did he do wrong?

He looks down at his arm and flinches. Roman's name seems to stand out more against his skin now, the colour darker than before, or seemingly so, but maybe that's just his skin paling with the turmoil that's raging in his entire body and mind.

Deep down he understands Roman, knows that he's done the right thing to give him the space to follow what he wants in his life at this point, but it hurts so much. It's hurts that that isn't Yann, that he doesn't want him. Yet.

But, what if there isn't a yet? What if Roman doesn't want him at all? What if Roman is already in love with someone else? What if Roman never comes back to him? His body freezes once more at the thought, and the tears begin to fall again, this time with sobs. This time with a clenching pain in his chest that makes it hard to breathe. 

The pain is like a vine wrapping around him and it's thorns digging into his lungs and his heart, getting stronger and tighter the more he thinks of Roman. Pulling and squeezing, knotting around him so tightly he feels stuck where he sits, as if he's rooted in place. 

It's dark outside by now, the night sky an ink blue colour as the moon rises in the distance over the city and he figures he should follow Granit's advice if nothing else. Sleep. Sleep would maybe do him good, settle him down and calm him. 

If he could move. Between the fire in his skin and the thorns in his chest he can barely raise himself. But he does. Slowly. 

He's gone before his head hits the pillow. He doesn't even remember kicking his shoes off or closing his eyes against the tears. 

-

He barely makes it to training on time, but he does, just. He’d dashed to the pitch with seconds to spare and smiled sheepishly at everyone, trying to hide his eyes, which he knew were still slightly red, despite trying to dampen them down with cold water as much as possible.

“You okay?” Granit asks him after they're done, sitting next to him as he unties his boots and pulls his shirt from his body.

“No, I'm not. I'm broken Granit. I feel broken. I don't know how to do this. It's all I ever wanted. Love, to love someone and be loved in return. And now it's gone. It's all gone and I'm a mess. I feel as if I already love him which is completely crazy, I've barely known him for a day but my heart yearns for him, my mind craves him and my body needs him. And he doesn't want me.” Yann stops, his head burrowing as low as he can take it, his forehead resting on his knees. “He texted me this morning, but I can't read it. I can't bare to know what it says, the pity and the apologies.” 

“Do you want me to read it for you?”

There's a soft touch on his knee and he chokes at the gentleness of it, of how Granit is treating him. It's so very different. So unlike him and it makes Yann realise just how lucky he is to have him. 

He nods, and hands the phone over, waiting for Granit to read it.

Even if it is Granit, he doesn't expect the anger:

“I swear to god Yann, when we play Grasshopper, I'm gonna fucking kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not kill me please yeah? But this isn't going to be a quick fix. Just FYI.


	10. Chapter 10

The weeks go by and Yann still hasn’t read the message, he wants to but then he doesn’t want to at the same time. While Granit’s reaction had been strong and murderous to say the least, Valentin’s had been more restrained, more pensive. He’s ummed and ahed over reading it, wondering why there was such a difference between the two of them, until he can’t take it anymore. 

It’s not until afterwards, when the tears have begun once more, that he realises it’s Roman’s birthday. 

So he sits quietly, staring at the words with one hand wrapped around his coffee mug and the other lying uselessly by his phone on the table. He’s not completely sure but he thinks he falls somewhere between their reactions. He’s still so hurt by it all, but he’s also angry. How can Roman do this to him? How can he make Yann feel this way and know that Yann’s feeling this way and just let it be? 

He understands the need to make mistakes and memories, of course he does, but why not make them with him? Together. Why not learn together? It’s not like Yann has all the answers to life and love, even though it’s all he’s ever dreamed of. He’s never loved anyone until now. He’s never let himself get so deep to allow that. He’s only ever wanted the one. 

And his heart aches as he types out the two words. _Happy Birthday._

He doesn’t really know why he sends it. But it feels right despite his anger and pain. Maybe it’s the only birthday from now that they’ll spend apart. Perhaps they’ll celebrate Roman’s 21st together somewhere, without football and without friends. Just them.

But it’s a pipedream right now and one that hurts too much to think about. So he locks his phone and forgets about it as he heads to training.

He tries not to think about it too much over the next few weeks, even though Roman is constantly there at the back of his mind. He tries not to think about the ache that he’s still feeling in his chest or the cold that creeps into his body every now and then when he hears his name or sees a picture of him. He tries to ignore the fact that he’s just been stumbling through life since that day.

He’s lucky that he has football and friends to get him through it.

Until the week of the game. It’s the last game before the winter break, and it would be the trip to Zurich to play Roman’s team. He feels the apprehension in his body and in his soul. He feels his chest getting tighter and his legs getting heavier with each passing day, each day that takes them closer to the game. Granit and Valentin notice don’t say anything, but he knows they want to, he can see it in their eyes when they look at him, and he knows they talk about him and it, it’s written on their faces.

The bus trip to Zurich feels like a lifetime to him, and almost like a journey to Hell. It’ll be the first time he’s seen Roman since that day and the text. He’s not really sure what will happen or what he’ll do when he does and he tries desperately to focus on something else, anything else. But it’s hard when he knows exactly where he’s headed. Granit seems to sense this and tries to distract him by popping his head over his seat in front of Yann and babbling about anything and nothing. It works to a degree until Yann sees the sign for the Zurich city limits and he’s brought straight back to where his thoughts were before: all over the place.

He’s been to the stadium before. The Letzigrund is nothing special and certainly nothing to be feared. Yet, today he feels terrified as he sees it and walks towards it. He knows it’s nothing to do with the stadium or even Grasshopper Club, it’s to do with him. And he doesn’t mean Roman. 

He means himself. He’s afraid of seeing Roman. He’s afraid of showing Roman just how hurt he is, how upset and how affected he is by what’s happened. Which he knows is completely irrational because Roman already knows all of that. He knows because of Yann’s goddam name on his arm, he knows because the name is like a portal to knowing if the other is thinking of you or not. 

Yann almost stalls as he walks out of the changing room. He slows down because he can see them. He can see the blue and white of Grasshopper and the yellow of the goalkeeping kit. He sees the name stretched across his upper back and swallows thickly. He sees Roman’s body shake from a laugh with a teammate and he claps his hands in front of him to try to refocus himself again and get his mind back on the next 90 minutes.

There’s a gentle tap from Grant behind him and he nods. He knows what Granit will say or look like if he turns around, so he doesn’t. He stays facing forwards, eyes fixed on the back of his captain’s head and whatever lies in front of it. 

But he feels him. He feels his arm tingle and then he feels the glance from Roman even if he doesn’t see it. His skin prickles and goosebumps rise along his arms and he hates himself. He wants to hate Roman so badly, but he can’t even if he is angry with him and his body is betraying him with the goosebumps. There's a desire to look at him, to see the eyes and the rosy cheeks and the full smile and there's a need to touch him so very badly

He barely holds back a whimper and then Granit is squeezing his shoulders, digging his fingers into his muscles. And it works. His focus is away from Roman for long enough to reach the pitch and still be on his own feet.

He needs Granit again when the teams shake hands. He needs the comfort from his friend when Roman nears him and his body sparks again, needing to be closer to him. He feels himself almost tip forward towards Roman, but then Granit’s hand is on his wrist stopping him. 

He swallows again, deeper this time, and this time he catches Roman’s eyes as they shake quickly. There’s guilt there and sorrow and Yann feels anything but the anger. But he can’t think about it, Roman is nothing but a rival goalkeeper at this point in time, and so he squares his shoulders, letting his spine lengthen and take him to his full height. He feels stronger that way and he smiles at Roman. Not the smile he’d used for him before, but one that doesn’t reach quite his eyes, one that’s slightly cold and calculating to a point. It’s the only thing he can do. 

As the game wears on Yann is reminded of what Granit had said when he slides in aggressively on one of the Grasshopper defenders, the one who’d looked friendly with Roman in the tunnel. He groans inwardly and watches as their captain admonishes Granit, telling him to calm down, but Yann has a feeling that he can’t shake. A feeling that Granit is about to do something so very stupid. 

_“I swear to god Yann, when we play Grasshopper, I'm gonna fucking kill him.”_

Yann can only watch as Granit does do something stupid. He sees the red card and a smirk from the midfielder. He sees Granit walking off the pitch slowly, and Yann shakes his head when he turns to glance at him. 

It’s only then that he realises the commotion going on at the other end of the pitch, in the box. It’s only then that he sees the doctors of both clubs working on someone and the stretcher beside them. It’s only when he sees the colour yellow that he realises that it’s Roman lying on the floor with his head being cradled carefully.

He suddenly feels cold. His whole body feels so cold and his skin is crawling. And he can’t be angry anymore as Roman lies there stricken and motionless. He wants to run over and check he’s ok but he knows that he can’t, no one can know about them beyond those who already do. So he stays in his box, body shaking and elbow stinging with jolts of electricity. 

“You ok?” Valentin whispers from his side as Roman is carried from the field.

“Yes.” He mutters not looking at him, just watching the stretcher disappear. He still feels cold, and now heavy. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Come on, 5 minutes to get through and we can talk if you want.”

Yann nods carefully. “Please.”

The 5 minutes last a lifetime to Yann. They drag on and on and Basel barely scrape the win, holding on just about, no thanks to Granit. Yann isn’t sure he’s ever disappeared from the pitch quicker before, but he just needs to be away from the crowd and the colours and the pitch. 

He sits on the bench in the changing room and sags. He still feels heavy, lethargic almost and the only explanation he has is that it's because of what’s happened to Roman, whatever that is. It’s messing with him, changing him and he finds himself struggling to be where he’s supposed to be. 

It’s also now as Granit emerges from the showers that he realises just how deep having a soulmate runs. He feels a surge of anger well through his body again, a need to make Granit hurt as he’s made Roman hurt, but then there’s a press of a hand against his chest to keep him grounded and he looks up at Valentin. 

“I understand, I’ve felt it trust me. But not now. This isn’t the time or the place. Get showered and we’ll find somewhere we can eat and talk. Go.”

As he showers his arm stings more and more until it’s an unbearable throb, a thumping in his arm. It tells him that Roman is in pain, in trouble and he wonders if this is how Roman’s arm felt that night. But… if it was then why hadn’t Roman changed his mind? Or come to him? If he knew Yann was in so much pain why hadn’t he come back and said they’d make a go of it despite everything he'd ever thought? 

That’s when he breaks again. 

His body crumbles and gives out underneath him, his back sliding down the cold and unfriendly tiles as the water continues to wash over him. He hits the floor with a thump and he knows he’s crying despite the water that's rushing over his face. He feels the sobs wrack his body once again, and feels the pain and humiliation ride over him.

But then there’s a change and anger all around him. Anger that Roman could do this to him despite knowing exactly what he was feeling.

For the first time in his life he understands why some people, Roman included, hate the idea of soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no apologies.  
> If you want to yell at me, go for it. 
> 
> :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's injury and realisation of just what he's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you wait so long.

Roman feels blurry. Well, blurry is the best way he can describe it anyway as it describes his vision pretty accurately but also the feeling inside his head. It's foggy in there and he's got no idea where he is or what he was doing when whatever it was happened to him wherever he is. 

He pats his hand to his head and grimaces. It hurts and his hand is padded for some stupid reason. It takes him a good 30 seconds and the vague outline of a tall guy in a blue and white shirt patting his chest to realise that he's on a field and that he's been playing football. 

Someone lifts his head carefully and he wants to be sick. There's dots in his vision now as well as it being blurry and he really really wants to be sick. But he can hear a crowd chanting and baying for blood and he really doesn't want to be sick here. He can think of nothing worse at this moment. So he groans and swallows the feeling, closing his eyes as he's finally carried from the field. He thinks. 

He does throw up when he's laid gently down on a bench somewhere and he rolls to the side to just let it out. He throws up again when he's transferred to the ambulance, and again when he gets to the hospital.

His vision is better now but his head still hurts and there's still dots at the corner of his eyes, and he hears the word ‘concussion’ at some point. And the word ‘Xhaka.’

It's Granit’s name that reminds him of who he was playing when it happened and he blinks slowly as the bile rises again in his throat. Yann. 

He realises then as he's lying there in his darkened room that there's a fizz in his arm, a shooting fizz through the 4 letters in his skin and he feels the tears begin to form. This is anger. Yann is angry, he can feel it. The fizz is sharp and almost painful and he knows that Yann is angry with him. Finally. 

The thought lingers with him as he waits in the darkness, a nurse coming in every so often to check on him. He thinks some more and waits as the doctor dresses some wounds on his chest and stomach, listening as the doctor mumbles something about a Granit doing a number on him. 

He waits and listens and his arm blooms in pain, a white hot pain that sears down his skin far beyond the name and seeps into his chest, constricting him tightly and taking his breath away. The vines are back inside him but this time the thorns are sharper and longer, piercing now where once they were simply digging into him. 

He drifts in and out of sleep as and when the doctors and nurses come and go and each time he closes his eyes he sees Yann. At first he's soft and serene, his smile bright and wide, and then he's disappointed, his face crumpling slowly and in the way that means he's trying not to show it. And then there's hurt in his eyes, pain behind all belief. But it's the last view, the anger and the betrayal, the loss of everything that is supposed to be, that gets him the most.

It jolts him, tightens the vines and makes them bigger, makes them more uncontrollable, wild and strong. And he starts to sob.

-

There’s disappointment in his parent’s eyes as he speaks a day later, after being released under strict orders, and he flinches. He knows that he should’ve talked to them sooner, knows that he should’ve gone to them with his feelings and his thoughts about soulmates. His apprehension over being meant for one single person for the rest of his life, and his desire to experience life before he settles with that one person at such a young age.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, picking at the skin around his fingernails. 

“What made you think that just because you’re not ready for this that he wouldn’t be either?” His mother asks quietly as his father sighs into the chair across from them.

“I wasn’t thinking about him, I made the decision long before his name appeared on my arm. I don’t want the universe to make the decision for me. I want to love him because I fall for him, not because I’m supposed to.”

“And that’s the problem Roman.” His father says, “you weren’t thinking about him.”

“What your father means,” his mother interjects, “is that now you have his name and he has yours, you’re linked forever. What you do in your life affects him. Your happiness and his are linked now. If he’s upset or angry you’ll feel it, if he’s happy you’ll know that too. So your decision of not wanting this, of rebelling against everything we know, affects him most of all, probably more than it affects you. And from what you’ve said, he wants this, he wants you. He wants everything that this is and you saying that you don’t want this now _is_ a rejection Roman. You might not mean it that way, but it is that way to him.”

Roman closes his eyes and breathes deeply and slowly, letting his mother’s words filter into him and sink in properly. 

“I- I didn’t think of that way. I’ve really messed this up haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have Roman.” His mother says softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into her gently. “You need to fix this if you can.”

“What happens if I can’t?”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I just don’t know, but you have to try somehow.”

Roman lets himself go and he feels the tears on his cheeks as he feels the warmth seeping into him from his mother. He should’ve been honest with them sooner. He should’ve asked them what would happen when he realised he didn’t want the universe to make his decisions for him. But instead he’d thought that he’d known it all, that his actions would affect him and only him. He’d spared no thought for Yann.

Yann is right to be angry and Roman sees that now through the still lingering fog in his mind, but he also sees just how much he’s damaged Yann and himself, and whatever hope they have for the future.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all ready for another twist.....
> 
> I should apologise for the ridiculous delay in this chapter, it's been a while, I know. But there were struggles with muse, inspiration, motivation and the desire to carry on with a fic that has an amazing number of subscribers, but only a small percentage of feedback in relation to that.
> 
> I'm always so so grateful for any feedback and I should send a huge hug and happy things to those of you who do each chapter. It means more than you know. 
> 
> I have a feeling that at least 2 of you will hate me after this and I'm sure you'll screech at me later..... :)   
> Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> :-* for reading!

Valentin flinches under Yann’s gaze. It’s probably the only time that that’s happened and Yann, for some reason, feels the tiniest hint of satisfaction seep through his body.

“OK…. I can see you’re angry,” Valentin starts, “But I’m not sure who you’re angry at.”

It’s an unasked question and Yann smiles as he flicks between Valentin and Granit. “Is everyone a good enough answer?”

Silence and then shrugs from them both.

“I’m angry at the world Valentin. Angry at the world for giving this shit to us. For giving me someone who doesn’t care about me, who doesn’t care that his choices affect me, who doesn’t care that his not caring has the capacity to break me.” Yann sighs. 

He is angry. But he’s hurt too, deep inside at his very core. And it radiates outward with every passing day, seeping into his muscles and his joints, and it’s harder to get through each waking minute. He feels like something is squeezing him tightly, wrapping and digging and squeezing even more. It feels like something is being tied tighter and tighter around him, slowly drawing him in around himself and he’s tired of it. 

“I just need to go home to Morges for Christmas and do something to forget about him, see my parents and talk to them. Get away and just… I don’t know. How the hell do I do that? Forget about him when I see his name every morning and night and feel what he’s feeling every minute of every day? Jesus! I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Granit shifts in his seat and leans back into it, the cogs whirring in his mind. “I don’t think you can forget about him Yann, that’s not how this works.”

“But he can forget about me it seems.”

“Can he though? These marks, they work like a link, a mirror. He feels what you feel and you feel what he feels. It’s stronger when the feelings are about each other, so I don’t think he can forget about you anymore than you can about him.” Valentin says softly.

“I know, god I know. I just wish that-”

“That they didn’t exist?” Valentin interrupts. “Do you really? After everything you’ve ever said and thought about it, do you really wish they were a myth, an urban legend?”

Yann stares at the floor, defeated. The anger having given way to a form of desperation. “I don’t know.” He cedes. 

“Look, we’re here for you anytime you need.” Granits says softly. “Whatever and whenever you need.”

“I doubt that Cassie would appreciate me stealing you all the time.”

“Actually, I think she’d quite like that. Apparently I have this special talent of irritating people quite quickly and easily.”

“Well……” Yann laughs. 

\--

The stones are comforting. They’re a focus for him, something to occupy his hands and mind instead of the alternative. It’s a soothing process, picking the perfect stone; flat and smooth, just the right size - neither too small nor too big; and then perfecting the angle and speed of throw. 

He’s been out here for hours, just picking and throwing, watching the stone skip across the water before finally falling in. There’s snow in the air and the light is fading as he finally packs up his thermos of hot chocolate and blanket, and heads back to his parents house. 

He realises as he climbs away from the lake edge that he’s not thought of _him_ until now. That his mind has been at peace and his body looser than it has been in weeks and it’s a cheering thought. He feels a loosening within him and he’s not sure why, he’s just thankful that he has. 

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” His mother says as he steps through the door, shaking the snow from his clothes and hair.

He hugs her tightly and presses a kiss to her cheek before letting her go. “Merry Christmas Mama.”

“Your father is just lighting the fire for the family and dinner’s almost ready.” She smiles as she wanders back towards the kitchen.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course dear, can you just pass me that towel please?”

Yann reaches for the towel and passes it to her whilst he thinks on how to phrase himself. He sits at the small corner table in the room and watches her for a few seconds as she flits between pots, pans and ovens. 

“Did you and papa get together straight away after you met?”

“Yes, but why do you ask?” 

Yann sags slightly and then starts. He just lets it all go, words spewing from him at a rate of knots and he realises as he finishes talking that it’s what he needed. Granit and Valentin are good friends and it’s been nice talking to them, but there’s a new level of comfort that his mother exudes.

She’s stopped bustling around and is leaning against the counter watching him quietly and patiently as the pots bubble around her. 

“So this is why you’re so pale.” She pauses and takes a few steps towards Yann, stopping by his side. “Sweetheart, why have you kept it bottled up, why didn’t you come to me when you found the name?”

“I don’t know. Because I wanted to digest it all before I did and then all this happened, and then Granit almost killed him, and I just.. I realised that I’m angry and hurt but for some reason I feel this pull back to him, even though he- he…” Yann quietens again, eyes firmly fixed on his hands, pale against the dark word of the table.

“He rejected you? Yann, sweetheart. Is that what he said? That he doesn’t want you?”

“No, but it feels like he has. Like he’s pushed me away and won’t ever want to come back to me.”

“Listen to me,” she says as she wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into her tightly, “I know what I’ve said to you about this and I know that this feels like a rejection, but you have to see his side of things too. Just because you’re ready doesn’t mean that he is. Not everyone is, most are, but there’s an exception to everything. You need to make peace with his decision and you need to give him the time he’s asked for.

I know you’re hurting sweetheart, I know this feels like the end of everything for you, but it isn't. He will come back to you, I promise you that. He will feel what you're feeling right now, he will feel what you're feeling forever and he will want to come back to you because he already loves you.”

“How do you know he does?” Yann asks quietly, muffled against the soft apron she's wearing.

“You feel him don't you?” 

Yann nods and leans back to look at her, letting her words settle into his being.

“Then he already loves you more than you, and possibly he, knows.”

Yann sighs softly and closes his eyes briefly, steadying himself. 

“Now, off with you into the dining room, your grandpa wants to see you.” 

Yann stands and kisses her cheek softly again. “Thank you mama.”

“Just don't leave it until you're a mess next time, and give him what he needs dear. He’ll come to you when he's ready, as much as that hurts you.” 

Yann smiles weakly and heads off to his family, his mind spinning and whirring with confusion. Too many thoughts and feelings coursing through him. He doesn't know that to think anymore or how to feel. 

He's angry and hurt and confused, but he's also oddly calm. The things his mother had said made sense, but then he still has anger bubbling through him. Anger at Roman for not wanting to be with him straight away, for pushing him away until he's “experienced life”. But there's anger at himself too, for wanting so much of Roman when he's clearly not ready for it. 

But it's the universe he's angry at mostly. For making this a thing, for making soulmates exist and be the only one he's ever wanted to love. For making everyone believe that you can only be happy with that one person, the one person the universe dictates is for you.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Roman has a point about soulmates and having a life before you settle down with them.

Perhaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it made sense and that Yann's feelings aren't too polar opposite......


End file.
